


Cat Problems

by Gepardo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gepardo/pseuds/Gepardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin never liked the Cheshire Cat, and he likes it even less now that it's his pet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Problems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufeepeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufeepeach/gifts).



> This is to be blame on rufeepeach and the rest of the RMC that joined in having the Cheshire cat as the Golds’ pet cat.

Gold never enjoyed having the Cheshire cat as a pet, he took by far too much Belle‘s attentions and affections; thought he did enjoy a few little things. For one, the curse had turned said feline into a British short hair, a stocky thing with chubby cheeks and with fur a solid shade of the dullest grey the world had to offer. The moment Chessur remember who he was and was still stuck in said form, he would be very, very cross and Gold couldn’t wait to see the hissy fit.

The second one was something Gold should really not delight on as much as he did. For a house so full of clutter as the pink palace was, it certainly had no mice or rat problem thank to a certain feline; however, Chessur delighted in leaving the heads of dead rats in Gold’s slippers. In retaliation, whenever Gold was the first up and found said present, instead of getting in a row with a cat who obviously had some high human-like intelligence, he would remove the rodent head and put it in Belle’s slippers before going down to make breakfast. The cussing of a certain feline’s name that came afterwards and the three days of Chessur sleeping outside were always pure bliss for the devilish imp. 

Unfortunately, the rat head thing happen only once in a blue moon…almost every other time, Gold found himself being irritated to no end by the feline and all his retaliations always blocked by one thing or another.

 

\-- -- --

 

Graham picked up the phone. “Police department speaking, what is your emergency?” He chuckled, storybrooke was the most peaceful town in the whole world, outside from some petty candy theft or egging of few houses in Halloween, there was never anything that could be label an ‘emergency’.

“Hello, sheriff Graham. I hope you are not busy at the moment.” The dry wit and the mild Scottish accent gave Mr. Gold away in a second. “But my wife’s cat has gone and stuck himself up in a tree”

“Oh! Well, I’ll be right over with a ladder, sir.”

“No, no….just bring a riffle…”

Graham paused, the words slowly sinking in. “……..Mr. Gold, we are not killing your cat just because this is the third time this week it got stuck up a tree”

“….Fine, then just bring a bb gun”

“I am not shooting your wife’s cat out a tree!”

“I’ll do it!”

“No!” The sheriff tremble a bit at saying no to Mr. Gold, but Mrs. Gold was by far more scary when angry. “Last time you got your way, she was pissed off with me. She said she was very disappointed with me and that I should know better. ” Graham was not proud that he himself could hear the whine and pout in his voice, but it was true. Belle had been very, very angry with him for giving Mr. Gold access to the firefighter hose, and the poor small-town police man hadn’t gotten a single bake good for a month. He wasn’t risking his weekly tin box of Belle’s bear claws and other sugary goodies just because Mr. Gold had some senile vendetta against the odd cat his wife owned.

Graham happened to like Belle’s baking, Mr. Gold’s shenanigans getting in the way of his bake goods was a big no-no in the sheriff’s book. 

“Fine, how about just a water gun?”

“No, Mr. Gold.”

“A chainsaw?”

The Irishman stared at the phone piece for a moment, had he heard that right? “Mr. Gold, we went over this, we are not killing the cat.”

“No, I meant to just cut the branch he is on.”

“………..No.”

“Fine, just bring the damn ladder.” Graham raised an eyebrow, quiet sure he heard the pawnshop owner saying something about never allowed to have any fun; the once huntsman could just picture Gold pouting at his fun being ruined and, for the love of all life, he found the image completely disturbing. 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes…” He hanged up and picked up his jacket, pondering if one of these days he would be brave enough to not only say no to Mr. Gold, but to march over to Dr. Hopper and have the old coot dragged off for a mental evaluation.


End file.
